


What Bug Crawled Up Your Ass?

by sapphire_child



Series: Season 12 Bits [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is learning how to talk about crap instead of repressing it though so - yay?, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Episode: s12e07 Rock Never Dies, Eye Sex, Gen, Kind of fluffy, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Episode: s12e07 Rock Never Dies, angsty, prolonged exposure to Crowley make Cas go something something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: Cas hesitates before making tentative eye contact. Dean holds his gaze, steady as he can, hoping that maybe he can pour enough resolve into his expression to help convince Cas. The dude is stubborn – at least as bad as Dean. And he seems to have picked up some of his worse habits over the years – the self-loathing, the guilt. Dean raises his eyebrows a little, to make sure he’s still got his attention, Cas’ eyes track the movement and then return to his eyes.
Cas is still pissy in the aftermath of losing Lucifer. He trails after Dean to a bar and they have a desperately needed, honest, conversation.





	

Crowley leaves fairly swiftly, ostensibly to crawl into a hole and lick his wounds. Dean kind of wants to start driving home so they can regroup (he doesn’t want to stay in this crappy town any longer than absolutely necessary) but Sam stubbornly insists that he needs to crash out someplace that isn’t the backseat of the Impala.

They set out to find the closest and cheapest no tell they can and Cas trails along with them like a lost puppy, quiet as he uses his grace to slowly knit himself back together. Dean glances at him in the rear view mirror as he drives. The guy is a mess. He looks tired, defeated – not just banged up from his encounter with Lucifer. When Dean announces that he’s heading out to a bar to blow off some steam, Sam shrugs, “Fine.” and quietly retreats into the bathroom. Cas however, decides to join Dean on his quest to find a bar which isn’t completely terrible.

His offer of company is surprising, not least of all because Cas doesn’t seem to be particularly happy. Dean’s three beers in (he’s been trying to lay off the hard stuff) when he finally gets sick of Cas’ downturned mouth and decides to do something about it.

“So.” Dean says, signalling for his next drink. “You gonna sit there like a sucked lemon all night?”

Cas gives him an inscrutable look, the kind of squint that in the old days meant he was ready for some smiting. “I’m not sure there’s much to be joyful about.” Cas mutters. “Lucifer is still at large. At best, he’s unhinged. At worst…” he shakes his head. “I’m not sure we have the firepower to take him out this time.”

“We’ll figure something out.” Dean counters stubbornly, taking a pull from his drink. “We always do.”

Cas’ mouth twists, wry and more than a touch bitter. “Well I wish I still had your faith.”

Dean barks out a laugh. “How the tables turn. Who’d have thought when we first met that I’d turn out to be the optimistic one?”

“I’ve known you to be many things.” Cas says, dead pan. He’s been fidgeting with a beer coaster, running his fingers around the edges like it’s a puzzle. He gestures with it as he speaks. “Optimistic isn’t exactly the first that springs to mind. Stubborn. Pig-headed maybe.”

“Born and raised.” Dean raises his bottle in a mock salute but Cas just continues to look bummed and a bit pissed off. After another lengthy swig of his drink, Dean shakes his head at him. “Man, what bug crawled up your ass?” At Cas’ annoyed side glance Dean huffs in annoyance and raises his hands in a defensive gesture. “C’mon Cas don’t give me that look. You’ve been pissy all day.”

Cas’ nostrils flare. “If you’d been hanging out exclusively with _Crowley_ for the past three weeks.” he snaps. “You’d be pissy too.” He shoots Dean a withering glare, as though it’s _his_ fault that Cas is in a bad mood, and seems to take a moment to reel himself back in. Dean goes to take another swig of drink just as Cas snarks again, “Or maybe you wouldn’t. Considering your history with him.”

“Whoa, hey.” Dean kind of hates how quickly he rises to the bait. He’s pissed off and putting his drink down a lot harder than he probably should considering how pathetic the insult really is. “Pot kettle man. We’ve all done dumb things where King Dick is concerned okay?”

And now Dean’s annoyed too, not least at the embarrassed flush he can feel on the tips of his ears. It takes him a moment to realise that Cas is pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” Cas takes another breath, and releases it slowly before looking up bleakly. “This whole thing with Lucifer is…stressful. I would much prefer to have been hunting him down with yourself and Sam. Crowley has his…uses…but he’s also a giant pain in my ass.”

Dean laughs again at that, and the tension eases a little between them. Cas even manages a brief smile before he goes back to toying with his drink coaster. There is a short silence, where Dean watches him. Cas glances over, considering, and then returns his attention to the coaster. When he finally abandons it and leans on the bar, arms folded, Dean leans in towards him almost unconsciously.

“I would have been grateful.” Cas says, slow and careful. “If you hadn’t left me with him at the hospital.”

Dean blinks, the conversation having taken a turn he wasn’t expecting.

“O-kay?”

Cas turns to look at him, and his usually piercing eyes look weary but calculating. “I’d also appreciate it.” he continues. “If you didn’t always give me the crappy jobs when we’re working together.”

Dean considers him, still slightly baffled, and leans back again so he’s seated comfortably on his stool. “So, what, you feel like we’re relegating you to the kids table? Is that why you’re pissed?”

Cas shakes his head minutely but Dean is pretty sure he catches one of his patented eye rolls as well. “If you mean that I’m…frustrated that yourself and Sam were the ones who got to interview Roseleen and you left me to babysit Crowley?” he inclines his head. “Then yes. I wasn’t happy about being put on ‘the kids table’.

“You tell me, time and time again that I’m like a brother to you both. That we’re equals. But when it comes down to it, you choose Sam every time. I understand he’s your brother and that you’ve been working together for a long time, but I had hoped that despite my…past transgressions…”

“Wait, hold up, what transgressions are we talking about here?”

Cas waves a dismissive hand. “Never mind. I know you hate talking about feelings. I’ll stop.”

And like hell is Dean going to let _that_ one rest. He sways back into Cas’ personal space, trying to keep his attention. “Dude, no, it’s fine,” he insists. “We’ve all been a bit on edge. But you gotta know, I wouldn’t trust just anyone to watch Crowley.”

Cas hesitates before making tentative eye contact. Dean holds his gaze, steady as he can, hoping that maybe he can pour enough resolve into his expression to help convince Cas. The dude is stubborn – at least as bad as Dean. And he seems to have picked up some of his worse habits over the years – the self-loathing, the guilt. Dean raises his eyebrows a little, to make sure he’s still got his attention, Cas’ eyes track the movement and then return to his eyes.

“Cas.” Dean says, and his voice is _not_ going all soft and mushy so help him. “I trust you. More than pretty much anybody else. And me pairing off with Sam all the time? It’s like a uh, like an impulse. Okay? Stick with Sammy, try and keep him safe. Same as my instinct with you is that you’re big and bad enough to deal with whatever gets thrown at you. I mean, I’m sorry if I pissed you off or made you feel like you aren’t needed or whatever. It’s nothing personal.

“And I’m not saying I won’t keep doing it – not because I want to piss you off, just, guaranteed I’m gonna forget or put my damn foot in my mouth because that’s just what I do. If it uh, makes you feel any better, at least now I know it pisses you off? I mean, I’m not great at the whole talking and feelings thing but if you need to talk about stuff that’s getting uo your skirt then we can do the Dr Phil thing. Hell, our lives could have been a hell of a lot easier if I was a bit less…”

“Emotionally constipated?” Cas supplies and Dean shakes his head, rolls his eyes minutely.

“Sure, I guess.”

Cas is silent for a while and Dean takes small sips at his beer.

“I’m still annoyed.” Cas offers finally. “Logically I understand where you’re coming from…”

“Yeah, well.” Dean mutters toasting him with his mostly empty beer. “Emotions Dr. Spock.”

Cas offers a tired smile, a faint laugh. “I’m not so sure I resemble him much anymore.”

“Well you’re a far cry from the Mr Roboto you used to be that’s for sure.”

“I think you’re getting better too.” Cas offers, in a tone that’s surprisingly kind. “I’ve seen your self-loathing first hand, felt your pain, your longing to reach out. And the fear of what will happen if you do.”

Dean shrugs but he can feel his ears pinking up again. “Old habits.”

“Die hard, yes.” Cas considers him. He still looks tired, but he looks a little less stressed out at least. “Perhaps we’re both becoming a little better at being human.”

When they leave the bar sometimes later, Cas touches Dean’s shoulder. It’s a gesture that probably shouldn’t feel as intimate as it does. It stops Dean in his tracks.

“Thank you.” Castiel rumbles. His eyes are picking up the neon glow from the bar sign. “I think I needed that.”

Dean returns the shoulder pat. Squeezes. “Anytime Cas. Really.”


End file.
